


A Stable Relationship

by Ponyfied



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Eventual Smut, Gay Cowboys, M/M, PINING KEITH, Rating May Change, Slow Build, angery keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponyfied/pseuds/Ponyfied
Summary: Keith and Lance are gay cowboys, basically.





	1. A Dog in the Headlights

**Author's Note:**

> I tried lol

The sunrise cast soft red light through the windows of Lance’s small farmhouse, causing his eyes to slowly reveal their cerulean selves to the old, wooden ceiling a few feet above his face. There was a lump of fur, his dog, Vaquero, laid next to him. When the lanky man stirred, his dog startled, flopping out of bed to bark at Lance, as he did every day. Lance wasn’t necessarily fond of this, but it replaced the need of an alarm clock.

Lance McClain lived in a small sanctuary farm town for immigrants, just South of Deverre, Nebraska, known as Voltron, as a horse rancher, and a for-hire cowboy. The town was named after the bravest defenders of the people, someone who cared about everyone, and welcomed them with open arms. Though his town never grew, the people in it had no issue with being less known, as it drew less attention to them, and let them live out their lives in peace, away from modern xenophobia. Most everyone was kind, and welcoming, except for his next door neighbor, because Lance wasn’t allowed to catch a break.

  
Lance’s neighbor was… a mess for lack of better words. Keith Kogane, the man who put the bitter in coffee, was a Korean immigrant who moved to Voltron at about the same time. Neither of them could afford their own pasture, so they settled on sharing, because their houses were near each other. While it may have been convenient for the two of them, there were many a hitch in their plan over the grassy field. For instance, Keith’s stupid mare would kick his precious Cerulean almost every other day, and the vet bills were getting out of hand. When confronted, the raven-haired man would scoff, and blame it on Lance’s perfect angel.

  
On top of that, Keiths mutt would try to herd his cow, Kaltenecker, all day. The barking drove him mad, and he knew he wouldn’t get anywhere by talking with his neighbor, so he just let Vaquero, his beautiful pitbull, out to keep Keith’s cattle dog away from his cow. Unfortunately for the Cuban boy, Vaquero only made friends with the other dog, even assisting the dog in her offense. Lance was beyond furious at his stupid dog.

  
These things were all incredibly annoying, but Lance couldn’t lie, life was good. He had a beautiful view of the woods, and the countryside was mostly peaceful. He enjoyed his job at the mechanic’s down the road. He was hardworking, and loved his furry little family he had made for himself, it was his small band of misfits, just like himself.

  
Lance began to cook breakfast after pulling on a tank top, and noticed Keith riding in the pasture. What the hell? It’s like, six in the morning. The ass-crack of dawn, as Lance called it, was cold, and wet. It shouldn’t be enjoyable to ride at this hour, yet there Keith was, riding bareback in jeans and a sweatshirt, looking like he’s having the time of his life.

  
Lance realizes two things rather abruptly. One, he’s staring at his neighbor like a creep, and two, he burned his eggs, and the fire alarm was going off. Lance yelped, grabbing a cloth and opening the window, desperately fanning the smoke out his window. Little did he know, the sound of the fire alarm blaring out the window would both distract Keith, and spook Keith’s horse. This was a recipe for disaster, which Lance soon realized. The crazy Arabian mare under the smaller man suddenly kicked out, causing Keith to tumble. The mare took off full speed around the pasture, bucking around wildly. Keith got up as the fire alarm faded out, his face covered in mud, and a glare painted on his face. Lance howls in laughter,

  
“Learn to ride, why dontcha?” Lance calls out his window, a chuckle in his voice, to which Keith responds,

“Learn to fucking cook!” he spits, wiping himself off, and whistling at his horse, who comes trotting as if nothing ever happened.

  
“Good girl, Jin.” he kisses her nose, as she turns her attention to Lance, her ears turned towards the tan boy. She follows Keith back to his barn, and that’s the last Lance expects to see of the other boy.   
He makes a new batch of eggs, feeding the old ones to his dog. He gets dressed in his oil stained work uniform, heading down the dusty road towards his place of employment, his radio playing a scratchy Paper Planes, which Lance always sings along to. He can’t help it, it’s catchy as hell.

  
His day consists of the usual, complaining to Hunk about Keith, and flirting with the ladies that come in… not that too many roll through this dustball of a town. Hunk insists that Lance has a crush on Keith, but lance shuts him down every time, insisting on his heterosexuality. Unfortunately, the small town was a little less tolerant to the LGBT community as it was towards immigrants.

  
At lunch, Pidge shares with Lance her schematic of a new machine to hoist cars without a huge amount of work and time consumption. Pidge was his genius little friend, who always got into trouble. She was way too clever, but his boss, Shiro, always cut her slack for reasons unknown to Lance. Maybe it was her brother. He had gone missing a while back, and everyone assumed he just up and left. Shiro never stopped fighting for the squirrelly boy’s innocence. If Lance didn't know better, he'd say that Shiro had something for Matt.

  
Lance works on four or five cars that day, and is covered in grease and sweat. He throws on the shirt he'd discarded hours earlier due to the crushing heat. Today was a quiet work day, but then again, every day was in this tired town. He began leaving, just as the sun sets, illuminating the woods. His drive consists of slow, lulling, country music, with a bit of static in the background. His truck’s radio wasn't the best, and they had to get their music from the next town over. Nobody had the money to run a radio show. Lance rolled down windows, breathing in the dust and dirt his car is pushing into the air.   
He loves drives like these, not much can go wrong during these times alone, the tan boy thought. No thought was given. None of the cops cared all that much about speed, probably because nobody went over fifty. It was okay though, nobody had anywhere to go these days. Lance lazily parks in a spot of dust near the run down, fifties café, if you could even call it parking. His boots hit the dust, creating a swirling cloud dyed blue by the dusk.

  
This town was stuck in an eighties western. People all slung guns and rode horses. All the city buildings were worn and wooden, other than this tiled diner in the middle of “town.” The town square consisted of a few small restaurants run by local families, and a court building that doubled as the bank.

  
The tall, skinny boy trods into the diner, to be greeted by the most beautiful nineties pop star he'd ever laid eyes on. She hadn't made it big time, so she settled down here. Nobody really understood why. She was a citizen, she was wealthy, she had no reason to be here in this shit show of a settlement. She had an English accent, which was a breath of fresh air compared to all these folks with a twang, and fluffy white hair right down to her wide hips. She always looked good, and Lance was absolutely infatuated with her.

  
“Hello Lance, the usual?” She greets him with a kind smile, leaning against the counter,

“Whatever the lady suggests.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes. She never put up with his bullshit, but never really seemed to mind all that much. 

“Can I get something for Vaquero, too?” 

“Sure, Blue. How's your girl doing? Still getting kicked?”

“Yes! It's infuriating! Keith won't even consider training her.”

“Jin’ll get over it, I promise.” She serves him a steak sandwich, handing him a bag of yesterday’s sausage. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“I'm twenty three, Allura.” He rolls his eyes, strolling to his car.

He finally was back on his way, heading home. He sighs, sinking into the plastic leather seats. Things are fine, he thought, rubbing the steering wheel. He turns into the street leading to his house, and immediately swerves.  
Between his headlights, a rusty brown dog darts in front of his car. He wasn’t going all that fast, which he thanks his lucky stars for. He hops out of his worn truck, examining the animal. His blood runs cold.

  
The dog in front of him was Tori, Keith’s cattle dog mix. She was breathing, but shallowly. Lance reached around her, gently picking her up, and setting her in his passenger seat, rushing down the road, and parking in Keith’s driveway. He hops out, 

“Keith! Open up!” he yells, rapping on the rickety door. Keith throws the door open, a scowl on his face.

  
“What the hell-”

  
“I hit Torrent with my truck.”


	2. Sterilize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is very, very gay.

Keith blinked. Partially to understand what was going on, and partially because Lance’s stupid truck was parked so the headlights were right in his face. 

“You-” he clenches his fists, his lips curling to show grit teeth, “you did what?” He nearly shouts.

“I'm so sorry! She just darted out! I tried to-”

“I can't afford a vet bill, you moron!” He gets up in Lance’s face. This man had been the cause of his every annoyance in this town. His stupid horse wouldn't leave Jin alone, so she got kicked. Lance came to his door all the time about how “Cerulean was limping” or “Cerulean was hurt,” and frankly, Keith was at the end of his rope. This. This was the breaking point.

“I'll pay most of it, but we have to go.” Lance starts towards the car. Keith is fuming, steam is nearly coming out of his ears, he's that pissed off. His face was bright red as he marched to the truck, sitting next to his wounded dog. He took a breath, and began stroking her fur. He was mad, sure, but she needed him right now.   
She let out a small whimper, and a small, shaky breath followed. Keith was sure he saw guilt flash against the taller boy’s face, but it quickly. He turns the radio up, trying to drown out the dog’s pitiful whining. It turns out that Keith and Lance shared a music taste. It sort of came with living in a town like this- the old, tired, country music. It wasn’t the only thing he listened to, but unless he had his own disc, that was all there was. There was only one channel on the radio.

Keith notices Lance quietly singing along, clearly trying to calm his nerves. Keith looks out the window, quietly joining in. He wasn’t really sure why, but it put him at peace when their voices joined in a harmony to the radio.

“One night at a time…” a guitar strums quietly. It's something you could listen to at the beach during a sunset with an ice cold beer in your hand. It's so calming with the wind in Keith's hair. If this wasn't such a stressful situation, this could almost be romantic. Keith sighed, because he was sure Lance couldn't feel the same way, so the thought was shoved down.

It was awkward, to say the least. Keith and Lance didn’t interact too much, unless they were arguing or rounding up the straggling cattle from the neighbor’s farm for them. They didn’t even get a chance to really talk before they began to bicker. The sheriff, Takashi, or Shiro as folks around town called him, would always have to break up disputes between them, and it annoyed the poor man to no end. Keith always felt bad for causing the poor man trouble. He was all scarred up from being held hostage in Iraq. He hadn’t agreed with the war, but he was all about serving his country, so he volunteered. Calling their treatment of their beloved Sheriff torture would be an understatement, unfortunately.

Soon, they were pulling into the animal hospital, a dusty sign guided them to parking. Lance reached for the dog, but the Korean man in the passenger’s seat smacked his hand away with a vitriolic glare. 

“You’ve done enough.” Keith says, narrowing his eyes, and scooping his dog up. Keith dislikes the sterile environment of the vet’s office. He always preferred wood or the outdoors. This set his nerves on end. A vet brings him back, leaving Lance in the foyer of the office. The vet takes her past another set of doors, before coming to tell him,

“Your dog is going into surgery, and the surgeons need their space. Well give frequent updates, but you need to return to the waiting room, alright son?” He pats Keith on the shoulder as if he was twelve or something,

“Yeah, alright.” He says, slumping into the seat next to Lance. He keeps glancing up at Keith, as if he's going to say something, but he doesn't for a good half an hour into the wait. 

“I really didn't mean to hit your dog- I would never.” He mumbles, “she's Vaquero’s best friend, well, other than me.” He says, trying to make a little light of the situation, but Keith only rolls his eyes. Lance couldn't be serious.

“Good to know.” He scoffs. He crosses his arms, glaring at the metal door. Lance had made up this stupid rivalry since they first introduced, and Keith was tired of him doing this shit. Subconsciously, he couldn't find a reason for Lance running his dog over other than that. “Why do you hate me so much? I mean, you hit my dog with your truck because of our stupid rivalry.”

“I didn't mean to! Honestly… and I don't hate you! You've been nothing but hostile to me since I first bought the farm.” The Cuban boy responds, frowning. 

“I wasn't the hostile one! I said my horse was faster than yours, and you threw a fit, like a child.” He growls, tapping his foot.

“You always make it seem like you're so much better than me, what was I supposed to think?” Lance scrunches his nose, looking away. “You treated me like I was lesser…” Keith wondered if Lance was actually having a sincere moment with Keith. 

“Keith?” One of the assistants calls to Keith, after about two hours of bitter silence, “your dog has made it past the most dangerous parts of surgery. We're going to keep Torrent overnight, you can go home now.” She smiles at the boy. “She'll be just fine.”

Keith smiles a bit, but sighs, and walks out the door with Lance on his heels.

“Can we not hate each other? Please? It's getting exhausting.” Lance blurts.

“Fine, whatever.” Keith replies, not giving him a real answer. The drive home was tense, but Keith really wasn't sure why.   
Okay, that was a lie. Keith was totally enamoured with the tan boy in the driver’s seat, not that he'd ever let him know. On one hand, he had no idea how Lance would react, but he also thought Lance would drive him crazy if they ever possibly dated. Lance was driving him crazy, though. Everything would go in slow motion when he saw Lance riding out in the pasture. Even Shiro noticed when he was over. That wasn't much to say, Shiro was his brother after all.   
___

“You should go talk to him.” Shiro chuckles, watching Keith staring at Lance out the window. He's cooking grilled cheese sandwiches, a melody of sizzling and the aroma of melting cheddar filling the room, “this is getting creepy, bro. I'm gonna have to fine you for stalking.”

“You wouldn't.” Keith turns to Shiro, crossing his arms.

“No, but I will tell him if you don't.”

“Really?” Keith groans.

“Really.” Shiro asserts.

“I hate being related to the sheriff, you always use the dad voice.” He says, scowling. 

“Keith, stop scowling, it's not a good look.” He sets plates on the table, “and I do not have a ‘dad voice’ you brat.” He smiles, taking a seat. Keith sits down, rolling his eyes. He starts stuffing his face, getting crumbs all over his face.

“Keith, eat properly.” He says, taking a bite, “Lance is gonna think you're gross.” Keith again rolls his eyes, wiping his face, and continuing to eat, this time “properly.”

“This boy is going to be the death of me, and I don't know if it's in the good way or the bad way.” He turns to look out the window, smiling at the cute boy perched above his silver horse.  
___

“Lance?” Keith dares to murmur. Lance looks over to the shorter boy in his passenger seat,

“What is it?” He asks quietly, after clearing his throat,

“Do you think I'm an asshole?” He asks, scrunching his shoulders,

“I mean, sometimes, but I don't think you're a genuine asshole.” He says, looking back to the road, “am I?” Keith snorts,

“You can be, but I also don't think you're… the worst person.” He relaxes a bit. The farm is slowly approaching, and Keith unbuckles, “thanks for the ride, I guess.” He could swear he saw Lance blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat with me:  
> Snapchat- datavatar  
> Tumblr- @ponyfiedd


End file.
